


A Stormy Day

by Omoni, Trash_Nicky



Series: Abovetale [31]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adventures in parenthood, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, F/F, F/M, Golden-hearted brat, Meddling Kids, OC human-goat-stoat child, Part of Abovetale, Post-Canon, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 18:00:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16142546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omoni/pseuds/Omoni, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash_Nicky/pseuds/Trash_Nicky
Summary: A glimpse of one of the many times Storm Dreemurr escapes her home as a child, both to cause mischief and warm the hearts of her three parents.This story was originally written by Trash_Nicky, with some tweaks and fill-ins here and there by me, and deserves full credit for this story. She wanted to post it as part of Abovetale, and I am more than happy to do so. I'm forever grateful to her creativity, her love of these characters, and her foresight into the newest member of the cast of Abovetale. Thank you!This is pure, glorious fluff. Enjoy if you need a smile - or a few happy chuckles and lip-wibbles.





	A Stormy Day

Storm was truly a storm.

With her being as outgoing as Basket, as mischievous as Nicky, but still as careful as Olceal, Storm Dreemurr was able to get in and out of trouble without anybody noticing.

Mostly.

Today was another of those Stormy Days, as Nicky liked to call it.

Their little girl had just turned four, and was able to both walk and talk – in Basket's opinion – way too mature for her age. She certainly _felt_ more mature than her age, and thus assumed she should be treated as such.

And it was because of that kind of arrogant mischief that she found herself, on _this_ Stormy Day, leaving her home.

Of course, the only reason she _could_ leave was because Nickname fell asleep on the couch, and Basket and Olceal were working. The little human-monster knew how to open the door, even if it was locked, and did, closing it carefully behind herself.

Once outside, she didn't hesitate. She found her herself wandering around the buildings, staying on the sidewalk for as long as she could, although sometimes she did have to cut across grass.

But she did not go just to explore. She went with a purpose, her few coins heavy in the small front pocket of her denim dungarees.

Storm's big eyes looked around the busy streets, as she searched for her goal. She waved at almost everybody walking by, smiling and saying “Hi!”, barely registering their reaction before she was waving to the next person. She loved making contact with people, with monsters and humans alike. Most of them waved back, but some just looked annoyed. She decided to ignore those people.

After a little while, the small human-monster ran into trouble.

She had to cross a street.

There was the crossing, just in front of her, with the traffic lights she had learned about from her dad, and she paused, studying it.

_Was it...? Red walk, and green stop? Or, green walk, red stop?_

She couldn’t remember, now that she needed it, most, and she felt panic bite into her.

So, she stood there, at the crossing, jumping from one leg to another while trying to figure out what to do. Like Nicky, she wasn't one to cry, easily, but like Basket, she was impatient.

“Do you want me to help you across?” a voice said.

Storm almost fell as she was taken out of her reverie. She looked up at the source of the voice: a human lady. She was right there, beside Storm, with a kind face and pretty grey eyes. The lady was sitting in a chair with big wheels, and Storm recalled seeing these chairs on the television, but didn’t really think too long, about it.

Because Storm needed to cross the street, and the lady wanted to help her! It was the best kind of luck, and she was grateful.

She nodded. “Y-yes!” she stuttered, a little embarrassed about needing help.

The woman did not seem to notice, or if she did, didn't care. She smiled, nodding, and she waved her hand, so that Storm would continue.

Feeling braver, Storm added, “I need to get to the other side, fast!”

“Hold on, right here, and I’ll help you across.” The woman said, pointing at one of the handles at the back of the chair. Storm nodded, quickly, placing her small hands on the handles of the chair, her feet hooking on a bar between the wheels.

“Hold on tight,” the woman advised, and Storm tightened her grip, nodding sombrely.

When the light turned green – ohh, it was green, walk! – the woman started to roll her chair onto the road, using her partially-gloved hands upon the wheels to move them, and Storm held on, tight, thrilled. It was a slow speed, but it was still fun, and she was smiling by the end.

They reached the other side safely, and Storm jumped down, giggling a little. The woman smiled at her.

“Thank you!!” Storm called, waving at the woman – who smiled wider and waved back – as she rolled away, going in a different direction than Storm was headed.

She had always learned to say thank you when people helped her, no matter with what.

* * *

Her adventure continued as she walked down the busy, shop-lined street. She loved it, her eyes always moving over the colourful storefront displays, as well as the myriad kinds of people all around her.

When she finally had found the store she was looking for, she clapped her hands in happiness and went inside, eager to finally have what she'd so badly wanted, in the first place.

* * *

 Now, with a small bag in her hands and her pocket almost empty, she exited the shop. A busy stream of people forced her to walk to the left, surprising her; it hadn't been this busy on her way in, and now she was confused.

_Did I come from the left, or the right? Why are there so many people?!_

Storm tried to escape the river of people, but she couldn’t; there were too many legs and arms, bags and people. She felt rare tears well up in her eyes, and she started to panic. Sobs left her throat and she tried with all her might to force herself free of that stream.

_There are too many people, way too many! What do I do? I need to get out of here!_

Instead of being able to step out from between the people, she fell, tripping over someone's feet, and tumbled out of the mess of people.

Shocked, Storm landed on her front, her knees, and head skidding upon the hard concrete of the sidewalk. Her forehead now hurt, and so did her knees. She crawled onto the sidewalk, curled around her knees, and cried, completely lost, now.

“Oh no, are you okay?” a familiar voice asked. "Oh! It's you, again! Wait -  _are_ you okay?!"

Now, Storm dared to look up, and blinked, surprised – and happy about it. It was the lady in the wheelchair, again, with the kind face and the pretty eyes.

Storm shook her head, new tears filling her eyes, and she couldn't speak.

The woman reached forward, taking hold of Storm’s shaky hands and lifting her back up to her feet. The little girl paused to check her bag, one still around her wrist, despite it all.

She then relaxed; everything _seemed_ okay.

“Oh, sweetheart, you're bleeding! Where are your mom and dad?” the woman asked.

Storm bit her lip “Um… Mami fell asleep on the couch, so I snuck--uh-- _went_ out...” she softly admitted.

The woman shook her head. “You cannot just go out,  _alone_ , not at your age! Do you have a phone, or know your phone number, so I can call your mother?”

“Uhm… y-yeah...” Storm murmured, reaching under her shirt, for her necklace.

After the first time she got lost as a toddler (a terrifying event involving the mall, a pet store, and a giant but sweet dog), Basket had given Storm a necklace, one with a tag engraved with her name, address and all three of her parents' phone numbers on it. Her uncle sans called it a stoat-goat-tag, but she didn't get the joke.

Storm was glad she had it, now – a first. She showed it to the woman, who typed in the first number on the list into her phone, then held it to her ear, her face sombre.

Storm could hear the phone beep, and it made her feel really nervous.

_What if they're super-mad...?_

She knew her mami and daddy would never get mad, but her mum could be very... _intense_. She bit her lip, nervously awaiting the verdict cast upon her fate.

“Hello, is this--? Oh! _Oh_ , oh _dear_ , Ambassador Dreemurr! O-oh, I had no clue she was _your_ daughter...! Yes, I found her, well, _eheh_ , on the street... I found her on my way up, and again on my way down,” the woman said into her phone, smiling a little.

Storm was always confused by the way people sometimes talked so _formally_ to her mami. But now, she paid no real attention to it, looking down at her feet, as she heard Nicky reply, her voice muffled, and she went red, feeling embarrassed, now.

 _How much trouble am I gonna be in...?_ she wondered, feeling a sinking sensation in her gut. _I just wanted to surprise them..._

She needn't of worried.

* * *

About ten minutes later, Nickname was running up the street, her eyes wide and her face pale. She ran to her daughter, lifting her up and hugging her, before settling her back down, now noticing – and checking over –Storm's wounds.

“Oh, Storm, _please_ don’t do this _ever_ again!” she scolded her daughter, once she made sure Storm's cuts and scrapes weren't serious. She held Storm's face in her hands, her worried eyes searching her daughters, and Storm felt bad, again.

“But, Mami--!” Storm tried to say, wanting to explain, so they both felt better, but Nickname shushed her, pulling her hands away and standing up, grabbing one of Storm's hands into her own. It shook.

“Let's thank this nice lady, first, Storm.” Nicky met the woman's gaze and smiled, a tight but genuine smile. “Thank you, Miss, for watching over my daughter, and keeping her safe. I was very worried.”

“T-thank you..” Storm agreed, sniffling. She waved at the woman, a little shy, now.

But the woman waved back, looking at Nicky with a kind smile. “It was no problem at all. Be safe, little one,” she added to Storm, before rolling off, again.

Storm never forgot the woman, despite never learning her name.

* * *

Storm was taken home, and Nicky called Olceal and Basket and told them what happened.

Of course, by then, she had already sent them both frantic texts messages as soon as Storm had gone missing. So when Nicky told them Storm was found, this of _course_ caused them to come right home, resulting in them both arriving no more than ten minutes after Nicky and Storm.

“I was so fu--reaking worried!” Basket almost swore, and for sure screamed, as she walked in.

Olceal followed right after, trying to calm his upset wife, but Basket shook him off, stalking into the living room, her face livid.

Storm was sitting on the couch with Nicky, her bag still tightly in her hand, and she shrank in her seat a little, moving closer to her mami. She loved Basket, but she could be a little scary, sometimes – especially if Storm already felt bad.

Olceal walked up to their daughter, dropping to his knees in front of the couch, so that he could look into her eyes.

“Storm Katie Toriel, you will _never_ do this, again, do you understand?” He spoke, his voice terse and strict.

And yet, despite this, there was _some_ tenderness, still, in his voice.

“But… Daddy... I _had_ to...” she whispered.

Olceal lifted an eyebrow. “And why exactly is that?” he asked, curious now.

Storm lifted the bag she was still holding. “Uhm… Last time, when we were walking, together… We went into a store and looked around... You all pointed at some point and said you wanted something, but didn't get them... So… I…”

She opened the bag, searching in it for a moment, before she took out Olceal's, first: a stuffed animal of a small mouse. It barely fit in her hand as she held it up to him.

Olceal felt his eyes tear up, as he looked up to his wives helplessly, now, going silent with emotion. He took it, holding it between his hands, and he stared at it, his tears streaking down his cheeks, and all in silence.

Storm took out another one, a small goat, this time. She held it out toward her mami, who gladly took it, unsure of what to say, but still able to smile in pleasant surprise. She held it up to her face for a moment, closing her eyes, before she kept it held to her chest, instead. 

At the last, Storm swallowed. She took out two. “Um, Mum had... had said she liked both, so...”

She pulled out a small yellow lizard, and a small blue fish. She handed them both to her mum, who looked confused, but still took them. 

Then, Basket's eyes focused, just as she remembered, and she winced, biting her lip as her eyes darted between them. And with that, her anger vanished, like it had never been, replaced with only love and affection for her daughter. 

Now all Storm could do was look at the empty bag in her lap and mumble. “S-sorry..”

All three parents had the same idea, and as one, attack-hugged their child.

“Oh, _goddammit_ , Storm.” Basket swore, earning a small smack on the head from Nicky, who frowned at her – and make her blush. “Thank you, baby girl,” she concluded, smiling at Storm - which had Storm relaxing, in turn. 

“But next time, _please_ ask someone to go with you.” Olceal added.

“You… _aren't_ mad?” Storm sniffled softly.

“No, dear!” Nicky agreed, kissing her nose. “We were just _worried_. But next time, do as Daddy says. Ask someone along, like Gran—” she meant Undyne, “—or Uncle sans, or even Auntie Tally, okay?”

Storm nodded, trying to wipe the tears from her face in the middle of the hug. (She ended up wiping her tears – and snot – on Basket's sleeve, but she didn't notice.)

“But _never_ go off alone, again!” Basket snapped – only her voice was choked, and she sounded like she was about to cry. She probably was.

Storm nodded. “Okay, I won’t!” she promised, meaning it. 

And it was like she had never cried, despite her red, puffy eyes. She grinned, like only she could, and wiggled excited in place, still within the arms of her parents.

“So, what will we play, next?” she asked, excitedly, still wiggling in their arms.

In reply, they hugged her tight, covering her face in kisses, and she repaid them with giggles.

All in all, a perfect day.

**\--THE END--**


End file.
